The New Path
by Qaint
Summary: Pilot Chapter. An Arthas-Story. Before becoming the Lich King and before being a Death Knight, Arthas Menethil was a Prince and a knight of the Silver Hand. Arthas makes a fateful decision at Stratholme. A choice we are unused to. His choice will affect the future of all of Azeroth for this is merely the first step of many down a new path toward a new future.


_In the city of Stratholme, currently the second most populous city in all of Lordaeron, a single man was about to make the decision that would set the path of the rest of his life into stone. Mal'ganis had made quite the moral dilemma for this man. The city had been infected by the plague of undeath and soon all the people of the city would transform into mindless zombies. Arthas now stood with a choice. Purge the city to save the country or grant the dreadlord Mal'ganis an undead army of a size which could devastate Lordaeron._

Arthas Menethil, Prince of Lordaeron, paladin of the Silver Hand and apprentice of the esteemed Lord Uther of the same order, lifted his hammer, Light's Vengeance up for what would be a mortal blow to the suddenly cowering man in front of him. The man had done nothing wrong. He'd simply been at the wrong place at the wrong time. So now he had to die. Like countless others. Watching Arthas' back intently was the remainer of his followers of footmen, priests and whatever hadn't left with Lord Uther. They believed in him and would follow him through this dark night and for that he would be them eternally grateful, but as a prince he knew he should make the first blow. He had to show his men that it was he, Prince Arthas, who sanctioned this massacre. He would carry this little burden for the sake of his men and he would carry out his duty for the sake of his father's kingdom.

_"I'm sorry, Arthas. I can't watch you do this..." __Jaina's voice was like a soft wind blowing past his ears._

Jaina had left him. So had Uther. The former in sadness, the latter in disgust. Perhaps that was for the best. He too didn't want Jaina to see what he was about to commit. And if Uther didn't want to guide him when he needed guidance the most, then he'd rather be free of him. He almost laughed at the sick irony of it all, Arthas, the most stubborn defender of the people, striking them down by his own will and strength, but he stopped himself. Such a display would not look good in front of the soldiers. A prince could not afford luxuries such as giving in to despair. That's why he had to press on.

"Milord... please-" The citizen in front of him fell on his knees and begged before a coughing fit made him stop. A clear sign of infection which shared by the other citizens in sight. This man was pleading for a life he'd already lost the moment the infected grain had touched his lips. Ending his life now would spare him from enslavement in death. _Damn Mal'ganis for doing this. He's forcing my hand. I have no choice..._

Unbidden a memory entered his mind of when he was just a young boy, staring up at his father, Terenas Menethil. Arthas had been summoned to him because he had tormented a servant by giving him impossible orders, because he thought it was his right as a prince. He didn't dislike the servant and he didn't care for the assignments he'd ordered the servant to complete. He'd been bored and watching the nameless servant's attempts had been entertaining. However when Terenas had learned of it he had been heavily reprimanded by his father. "But Father, isn't it their place to serve us?" Arthas had asked his father in confusion as to why he was being punished.

The king had smiled ruefully at the youngster as if remembering an old memory. "No, Arthas, my boy. It's quite the opposite. The people doesn't serve us. They merely follow us for protection and in gratitude they allow us our elevated status. I serve the people and in time, my son, hope you will too, if you make that choice. While we have limited choice as to our upbringing, we can all chose whether we will serve and how we go about doing that whether you are a prince or a farmboy. That choice is always a man's own." He'd never needed such a lecture again.

_Uther's disapproving voice boomed in his head. "You've just crossed a terrible threshold, Arthas."_

Arthas shook his head. _No, Uther, you're wrong. I haven't__ gone yet. There's still time and there's always a choice._

He let the hammer fall slowly to the side and kneeled down on the ground and offered the coughing peasant his hand. The man gingerly took his hand and was helped up.

"I am sorry, but I cannot do this. I cannot slay my own people." Arthas said. Most of all to himself.

He turned to address his soldiers. "Men, new orders. Round up all the people you can who does not show signs of infection at our encampment. If in doubt then leave them. Don't go alone and watch your backs, undeath stalks this city. After we've gathered as many as we can we'll retreat to the capital. They need warning. We'll leave before dawn people, so move swiftly!"

A doom laden atmosphere seemed to disperse from them and lift their spirits. Most of his men immediately set about the new task with vigor, however Arthas didn't stand back and watch. He clamped a hand down on his closest captain.

"Falric, find Captain Marwyn and gather the rest of my personal retinue. We're going after Mal'ganis."

Captain Falric, his most trusted soldier and a personal friend, gave a salute and quickly rounded up his other other captain and a score of the royal guard.

"Now before we begin, Captain Falric, I want you to stay here to organize the evacuation of any nearby villagers. Take what soldiers you need and get as many people away as you can. If I don't make it back, then you're in command." Captain Falric looked ready to protest, but Arthas cut him off. "As for the rest of you, I want volunteers for a dangerous mission. I am going after the dreadlord Mal'ganis who caused this. If you don't feel up to it, then join Captain Falric and Captain Marwyn with evacuations. Volunteers, step forward."

As one, they stepped forward. A single soldier stepped forward. "We'd all follow you to the very heart of darkness, Prince Arthas." Satisfied, he turned to Falric and Marwyn again. "Chin up, Falric. I do not doubt your ability nor do I hold you out because I do not want to risk you. I would have liked to have you join me in this, but I need someone I can depend on to lead things if something unexpected happens to me. I need you to warn my father, the King and tell Lord Uther what happened here. Can you do this for me?"

Captain Falric saluted again, though with little joy apparent. "As you wish, my Prince. May the Light guide your path."

Arthas let out a deep breath. "As it may light yours. Thank you, Captain. Now let us make haste, we will bring divine fury upon those responsible."

He was alerted to a sudden warmness in his hand. Light's Vengeance had grown comfortably warm and felt lighter than ever in his hand. He lifted up Light's Vengeance, which lit up with divine purpose. "For Lordaeron and for King Terenas! We follow the Light!"

With that, Arthas charged straight into what was soon to become a gauntlet of undeath and destruction, the roar of his retinue following behind him. _This feels right... What would you think, Jaina? Uther?_

* * *

A/N. Hullo readers. This is a pilot for my possibly upcoming Warcraft fic focusing on the story of Arthas if he didn't slay tens of thousands.

I say pilot because I am a very busy(/slow) writer and I have a lot of plans for different fics I would love to write and I'm not stopping my main fic (Memento). So I'm putting ideas out there and gauging the reception. And really! As long as I only think about it, I'll never get anything done and this idea is why I started writing fanfiction.

Expect slow updates. This was written in a day. I can do that, but I seldom do. Forget writers block, procrastination is my biggest foe yet. But if I'm hounded by PMs, reviews and other such stuff, I tend to write faster. Though first I need to finish (start actually) a few other projects.


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